


Angus McDonald and the Candlenights Train Miracle

by marywhale



Category: The Adventure Zone (Podcast)
Genre: Gen, Snowed In, Trains
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-24
Updated: 2017-12-24
Packaged: 2019-02-19 12:11:01
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,923
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13123458
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/marywhale/pseuds/marywhale
Summary: It's Candlenights and Angus McDonald is stranded halfway to Neverwinter on a snowbound train. If he misses dinner, he'll never hear the end of it.





	Angus McDonald and the Candlenights Train Miracle

**Author's Note:**

  * For [cgkpluie](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=cgkpluie).



> Happy Candlenights, everybody! This fic is a gift for cgkpluie, whose wish list included something slice of life and Tres Horny Boys + Ango as one of her favourite character dynamics. I hope you enjoy this story and that you have a very happy New Year!

The train gets stuck. Angus notices it before the other passengers because he’s Angus McDonald, even if that’s not the name on his ticket today. His heart sinks in his chest as he leans back, trying to spot what might have caused them to stop through the window, even though he knows it’s unlikely he’ll be able to see anything. Given the thick blanket of snow falling outside, it’s probably fair to guess the weather is what’s holding them back. The flakes are huge, two inches across at least, and falling fast. The ground is white and even the tall trees lining the tracks are half-frozen, coated in snow. Angus has a feeling they’re not going to be moving anytime soon.

The conductor, an elderly dwarf with a bushy white beard, steps into the passenger car and Angus slumps in his seat. That’s the final nail in the coffin.

“Folks, I’m afraid I’ve got some bad news,” the conductor says. “The snow’s too heavy on the tracks ahead to proceed right now. We’re going to have to stop here for a while, but we’ll try to have the train up and running again as soon as possible.”

Angus is familiar with trains and their tracks and unless the train employs a wizard powerful enough to melt the snow and warm the tracks without doing them any damage, he’s not so sure they’ll move again before morning. 

The other passengers in the car seem equally unconvinced by the conductor’s promise. There aren’t many of them —four, aside from Angus himself—because most people don’t travel _on_ Candlenights if they can help it. Tickets are cheap, but it also means most travellers are in a rush to reach their destination.

The older couple sitting in the seats across from his—a human and a half-elf—start whispering to each other, distressed. They’re on their way to Neverwinter to visit their daughter and their wife for their first grandchild’s first Candlenights. Angus hasn’t _talked_ to them aside from their initial exchange of greetings, but they’ve been worrying about the weather and making it to Neverwinter since boarding the train.

“How soon’s as soon as possible?” asks the halfling woman on the opposite side of the car. She’s been alternating between looking frustrated with her stone of farspeech and reading a book. Nervous, like the couple, but also impatient. She’s dressed in a pantsuit, probably got on the train right after work, possibly going to Neverwinter for business, although the way she keeps fussing with her hair makes a personal trip more likely. The fact that she hasn’t really been able to use her stone doesn’t bode well. “It’s _Candlenights_. We have places to be.”

“Do we at least get free food if we’re snowed in?” asks the final passenger, a teenage tiefling dressed in all black with long, sweeping bangs he keeps shaking out of his face. He’s holed up in the back corner of the car. His coat is so big it threatens to swallow him and, although it’s leather, looks worse for the wear, worn it at the elbows and starting to crack around its upturned collar. “Something to drink?”

Angus fishes his stone of farspeech out of his shirt. He _really_ doesn’t want to deal with missing Candlenights dinner without even calling to say he’s stuck. Taako’s been planning the dinner for two months. He may have blown off the effort every time the holidays came up in their conversations and downplayed the work he was putting into this meal that _everyone_ was supposed to come to, but Angus is the world’s greatest detective, and also he talks to Ms. Lup and Mr. Kravitz and both of them have a lot to say about how much Taako cares about making sure this dinner is a success and the stress they’re under to meet his expectations of them.

Angus is _not_ going to be the thing that ruins dinner. He’ll never hear the end of it.

Even though he’s expecting it, after the trouble the halfling’s been having with her stone, his heart still sinks when the call won’t go through. _Angus’s_ stone has special enhancements that most don’t. Angus, when he has signal, can call the astral plane. They’re well and truly stuck and they can’t even let anyone know to come get them out.

“You can’t call for help, can you?” he asks, looking up at the conductor. “My stone’s not working.”

The conductor hesitates. “We’re doing everything in our power to get the train moving again,” he says. “When we don’t check in in about a half hour, they should send someone out.”

“Are your parents going to be worried about you, son?” the man across from Angus asks, giving him a concerned look.

“Oh, I’m an orphan, sir,” Angus says, because he’s going to have to tell a lot of lies in the next couple hours and it’s always best to keep some truths in there as a foundation. _Angus McDonald_ is a name synonymous with the Seven Birds and the Bureau of Benevolence. It’s the name of a famous detective and boy genius. Amos McDougal, the name on Angus’s ticket, is a twelve year old boy, slightly small for his age, headed home for the holidays. “But I am going home for Candlenights. My family’s supposed to pick me up in Neverwinter, but they’re always late anyway.”

This doesn’t help the man look less worried. He glances at his wife, who pats his hand. “I’m Wendy,” she says. “This is Douglas. What’s your name, honey?”

“Amos,” Angus says, and looks at the conductor again. “I know you probably don’t have an _exact_ time, sir, but you’ve been working on the Neverwinter Express for a while, right? When do you think we’re get moving again?”

The conductor glances around the car. Angus does his best to look young and wide-eyed. It’s a tactic that’s growing less effective, but he’s still small for his age. People still underestimate him as long as they don’t know who he is.

Mavis keeps telling him he’s going to hit a growth spurt soon and then he’s going to have to come up with an entirely new set of tactics and she’s _right_ —his grandfather was a very tall man—but maybe Taako’s influenced him more than he likes to admit because right now Angus is choosing to save that as a problem for his future self to deal with.

His future self will not be a fan of his present day self for putting off strategizing, but Angus figures it’s not like he’s going to wake up one day as big as Magnus. He’ll have time.

“If they send someone out in half an hour, but may be a few hours after that before we get moving again,” the conductor admits, after a moment. “We have wizards on call, but it’ll still take time to clear the tracks. We may need to wait for a break in the storm.”

“A few _hours_? We won’t make it to Neverwinter before midnight if you’re delaying us for hours!” the halfling woman protests, getting to her feet. “There must be _something_ you can do. Do you have a supervisor I can speak to about this?”

The conductor looks at the women, stoic. “Sure,” he says. “As soon as the storm clears, I’ll get you her frequency. Right after we get started on clearing the tracks.”

The teenage tiefling rolls his eyes. “It’s not the old dude’s fault the train’s not moving, Karen,” he says. “You might as well sit down. Seriously though —can we get some food or something if we’re stuck here? I’m starving.”

“My name is _not_ Karen,” not-Karen says, turning to give the tiefling a dirty look. “It’s Deb.”

“Cool,” says the tiefling. “Sit down, Deb. Unless this dude’s got some serious druidic powers we’re not going anywhere anytime soon. Might as well chill the fuck out.”

“ _What_ did you just say to me?”

The car erupts into bickering between Deb and the tiefling, as the conductor tries to get them both to settle down by loudly asserting that nobody should panic and everything was going to be _just fine_ and would anyone like a drink?

Angus pulls out his pocket watch, checking the time, and sighs. It’s already three, which means even if the train starts moving in the next hour he’ll arrive in Neverwinter just in time to be late for dinner. And really, it’s much more likely that he’s going to miss the gathering completely. He almost wishes he hadn’t accepted the last minute request from the Redcheeks to travel to Hogsbottom and investigate accusations of price fixing in the cider market.

Almost.

Angus loves alternating his time between furthering his studies at the Academy of Arcane Sciences and teaching at Taako’s Amazing School of Magic, but detective work is his first love and one of his greatest joys. He’s missed flexing his investigative muscles, and besides, he feels like he owes it to Noelle to make sure he family isn’t roped in to any trouble and Carey’s brother and his wife had put him up in their basement suite for free, and—honestly it had just been _fun_. 

Detective work is harder when people recognize him on the spot as Angus McDonald. Taako likes to drag Angus around with him when he goes shopping or makes public appearances, which means Angus is something of a public figure in Neverwinter too and just—he’s _working_ on his illusion magic with Davenport when Davenport’s travels bring him to the city, but his disguises are still rough. Not something he can maintain for extended periods of time yet.

Hogbottom had been a breath of fresh air. Nobody recognized him unless they’d already met, but everyone had still been friendly—not one person had attempted to kill him—and he’d been able to disprove the price fixing accusations. Angus might have stayed longer, except that it’s the holidays and he’d promised Taako to be back for Candlenights. 

Angus _wants_ to be back for Candlenights. Everyone is going to be there. Magnus was coming in from Raven’s Roost, Merle from Bottlenose Cove with Mavis and Mookie in tow. Davenport was in Neverwinter for a visit, staying with Taako, Lup, Barry, and Kravitz, so he’d even been involved in planning the party. Carey and Killian were coming, and Taako had even grudgingly allowed an invitation to be extended to Lucretia, which Angus has been particularly looking forward to because it’s been a while since he’s been able to do more than chat briefly with the Director with the Bureau so busy.

It’s supposed to be a whole family affair.

“Don’t worry, Amos. I’m sure we’ll be moving again before you know it,” Wendy says, reaching out to pat Angus’s hand. “Don’t let the others bother you. They’re only yelling because they’re anxious.”

“We should really do something to distract them.” Douglas glances over at the still raging fight between Deb and her teenage foe and the increasingly desperate looking conductor. 

“I’d love a cup of tea, if you don’t mind.” Douglas raises his voice, pitching it to be heard about the din—it’s a professional change of projection that cuts through the other noise without seeming like he’s yelling. Bardic, even, and Angus should know—he just spent two weeks with Carey’s brother. “Should we all move to the dining car?”

The fight pauses and the conductor turns to look at Douglas with a gratitude clear on his face. “That sounds like an excellent idea, sir,” he says. “I can provide refreshments for everyone, if you’d all like to follow me. Miss Jones, I promise as _soon_ as I hear the storm’s cleared up enough to allow for a signal to go through, I’ll let you know.”

Deb pauses for a moment, then nods. “I could use a drink,” she says, straightening up. “The stress of this trip is ridiculous.” She marches into the dining car with as much dignity as an adult who just got into a screaming match with a teenager in public can muster.

The tiefling looks very pleased with himself. “Sorry about that,” he tells the conductor. “Can’t stand people who act like they’re above everyone else like that. Didn’t mean to make your job harder.”

There’s a brief suggestion of a smile on the old dwarf’s face as he shakes his head. “Not at all, sir. Just another day on the rails.”

The conductor leaves the car as Wendy and Douglas gather themselves and their belongings to move. Angus grabs his satchel and slides out of his seat, walking over to the tiefling. “I’m Amos,” he says. “Are you going home for Candlenights, sir?”

The tiefling snorts. “Holy shit, don’t ‘sir’ me, kid. I’m Bryn.” Bryn looks Angus over critically. Angus is wearing a green tweed suit and a bowtie. He’d dressed the Candlenights part before boarding the train. His proper attire obviously isn’t making a good impression on Bryn, with his eyeliner and the excess of chains hanging off his pants. “Shouldn’t you stick with your grandparents?”

Angus glances back at Wendy and Douglas. Given Douglas’s dark skin and the way they were seated, he can see why Bryn might assume they’re family. “Oh, they’re not my grandparents,” he says. “Our seats were just close together.”

“I mean, my ticket said I should be sitting next to Debbie, but it’s an empty train. Pretty sure you can sit wherever you want,” Bryn says. He’s got a skeptical look on his face that says he thinks Angus is a goody-two-shoes. Like most teenagers Angus encounters in the course of his work, he’s written Angus off as a little kid.

“I guess you’re right, sir,” Angus says, enjoying the literal cringe being called _sir_ elicits from Bryn.

They walk into the dining car together. The conductor has moved behind the bar and is pouring something pink from a shaker into a glass for Deb. Angus takes a seat at the bar beside her, and Bryn sits at the far end, away from Angus, leaving two empty stools between them.

Deb knocks back half the drink in one go. Judging from the look on the conductor’s face, it’s a lot of booze.

“Are you on your way home for Candlenights?” Angus asks, as he sets his satchel at his feet.

“Shouldn’t you be with your grandparents, kiddo?” Deb glances at the door to the car as Wendy and Douglas make their way inside.

“Oh, they’re not my grandparents. They were just seated near me on the train,” Angus says. “My grandparents are dead.”

Deb squints down at him as she takes a more moderate sip of her drink. “You shouldn’t sound so perky when you say shit like that. Comes off creepy.”

“Can I get you something to drink, Amos?” the conductor asks. “Milk? We’ve got some cookies around here somewhere.”

Angus glances at the conductor’s uniform, when he calls Angus by his fake name—Angus assumes it’s easy to memorize your passengers’ names when there are only five of them—but he doesn’t have a nametag. Staff aboard the Rockport Limited always had nametags, but it was a more expensive trip, boasting top-notch, highly personalized service, when the conductor wasn’t a serial killer. This was a _nice_ train, certainly, but it was no Rockport.

“Could I get some tea?” Angus asks.

“If Amos doesn’t mind green, we could share a pot,” Wendy says, coming up and taking the stool on Angus’s free side. “Is that all right with you, Amos?”

“Green tea sounds nice,” Angus agrees, as Douglas sits between his wife and Bryn. 

They have a long wait ahead of them. Bryn is stewing off in the corner, looking like he hates the world and everyone in it, a ratty backpack at his feet. The expression is one Angus recognizes from some of the moodier students in his classroom. Deb has already finished her first cocktail and is flipping through the bar menu, browsing for another to order.

He glances at the conductor, who meets his gaze evenly, as he starts to assemble a pot of tea, and then tilts his head, ever so slightly, towards Douglas.

Angus blinks and looks at Douglas, then back at the conductor, who raises his eyebrows like he’s expecting something. Angus frowns slightly, but there’s only one maybe-remarkable thing he’s noticed about Douglas today. He has no idea if it’s what the conductor seems to be getting at, or how the conductor knows he noticed it, but… keeping another fight from erupting by distracting everyone does sound like a reasonable goal.

“Sir,” Angus says, turning back to Douglas. “If you don’t mind me asking, are you a bard?”

Douglas’s eyebrows raise in surprise and he laughs. “I am,” he says. “What gave it away?”

“The way you project your voice,” Angus says. “My, um, guardian’s partner used to be a bard. He can do the same thing.”

“Does he use it to break up fights too?” Wendy asks, grinning down at Angus. “Douglas and I were surprised by the overlap between parenting skills and bardic abilities. Our kids used to complain about us breaking out our _work_ voices at home all the time.”

Angus thinks about Taako and Lup bickering in the kitchen and Kravitz informing them when something starts burning. And the time Magnus and Taako got into a screaming fight over Stephen the Fish until Kravitz weighed in on the subject of fish necromancy. “Oh yes,” he agrees. “It gets used for that a lot. You’re a bard too?”

“I was,” Wendy says. “We used to be quite the double-act.”

“Back in your day, when people walked uphill both ways in the snow to get to school?” Bryn taps his fingers against the bar. “Can I get a beer?”

The conductor gives Bryn a skeptical look.

“Fine,” Bryn says, sighing. “I’ll take a hot chocolate, I guess.”

“Good choice,” says the conductor, setting the pot of tea and three cups in front of Wendy. “I’ll see if I can scrounge up those cookies too.”

“We’re not _that_ old,” Douglas says, giving Bryn an amused look as he pours tea for himself, Wendy, and Angus. “Although our last gig was… what, Wen, twenty-five years ago? Darn, maybe we are that old.”

Wendy picks up her cup and shakes her head. “Darling, speak for yourself. I’m a timeless classic.”

Beside Angus, Deb suddenly sits up straighter. “I _know_ you,” she says. “You’re—my mother had all your albums. My sister and I both had music boxes of your songs. When I was little we went and saw The Dougie and Wendy Darling Show four or five times. Your Candlenights carols got played every year in our house.” It’s the first time all day Angus has seen Deb smile and she’s _beaming_ at Wendy and Douglas. “Mom _loved_ you.”

Wendy laughs. “That’s us,” she says, raising an arm with a flourish and smiling a very white, very charming smile. She lowers her arm. “Or—that _was_ us. We’ve been in retirement for about a quarter century. It’s been a long time since we met anyone who’s heard of us.”

“I haven’t heard of you,” Bryn says, as the conductor sets a mug of cocoa in front of him. “What about you, kid?”

Angus shakes his head. “No, sorry, but I’m not very good with pop culture.” It didn’t help that most of the adults in his life were from a different plane entirely, or had last been alive centuries ago.

“I don’t fault either of you. You’re both young and it was a long time ago,” Douglas says, looking at his wife and smiling. “It was a wonderful time while it lasted though. We tried to keep touring for a bit after the kids came, but we were both ready to settle down, I think. Did the occasional show here and there, but retirement suits us.”

“Oh yes,” Wendy agrees. “Retirement’s a gas. When we travel we get to see something besides the green room. Did you know Rockport’s a city of _industry_? We toured through seven times and I never knew until we went on a ski trip to the Teeth with the kids.”

Deb laughs, taking another sip of her drink. “You sound just like you did on your albums.”

Wendy winks at Deb. “The patter never really leaves you, dear. Like slipping on an old robe.”

“Why are you headed to Neverwinter?” Deb asks. “Not for a show?”

“Oh Istus, no,” Douglas says. “Our daughter, Grace, and her wife had a baby a few months back. It’s our first Candlenights as grandparents. We wanted to be there.” He glances out the window behind the bar. The dining car is cozy and warm, but outside the snow is still a thick sheet of white. It’s festive, but unfortunate.

“What about you?” Wendy asks. “What are you heading towards?”

Deb hesitates. Angus can see her warring with the urge to inform them all that it’s none of their business. Maybe the conductor made her drink extra strong, or maybe it’s being starstruck, but she looks down into her empty glass and opts for honesty. “I was supposed to spend Candlenights with my sister. We had a falling out after our mom died a few years ago, but—I mean, the world almost ended. That put some things into perspective, I guess. I don’t know what will happen when I don’t show up.”

“I’m sure she’ll understand,” Douglas says. “You can’t control the weather.”

“I could have left on an earlier train though. I’m always working. She hates that.” Deb sighs and pushes her glass away. “Where are those cookies?”

As if on cue, the conductor produces a tray of cookies from behind the bar “Here we are, miss,” he says. “Quite an eclectic selection today.”

It is too—rugelach filled with walnuts and dried fruit, chocolate crinkle cookies coated in powdered sugar, thick slabs of shortbread flecked with vanilla bean, intricately decorated sugar cookies, and, on the far side of the tray, cookies that Angus _immediately_ recognizes as elderflower macarons.

He looks up at the conductor, frowning as everyone else exclaims about their favourite Candlenights cookie being on offer. The other four varieties of cookie Angus could excuse—they’re standard Candlenights fare—but elderflower macarons are a uniquely Taako affair, and uniquely personal to Angus.

The conductor winks.

Bryn already has a chocolate cookie in his mouth and another in hand. “Fuck, my grandma made cookies just like this for Candlenights when I was a kid.”

“Bit of a chocoholic?” Douglas asks, as Bryn washes the first cookie down with his hot chocolate. “I always loved shortbread. Wendy thinks it’s boring.”

“It _is_ boring,” Wendy says, waving her rugelach at him. “You need something with a little more flavour in your life.”

“That’s why I’ve got you, dear.”

Deb takes a bite of the sugar cookie in her hand and then uses it to gesture towards the macarons. “I’ve never seen macarons for Candlenights before. Are they peppermint or something?”

“Elderflower,” Angus says. “My family makes them for Candlenights.”

“Must be a regional thing,” Deb says. “Where are you from? Actually, you’re kind of little to be travelling on your own, aren’t you?”

“I’m twelve,” Angus says, and then looks at Deb properly, taking a sip of his tea. “I was just visiting some folks in Hogsbottom for a bit, but I’m headed home to Neverwinter now.”

“Your—guardians didn’t want to come with you?” Wendy asks, stumbling only a bit over the word. “Twelve is still awfully young to travel alone on Candlenights.”

Angus glances at the snow outside again. Taako, Lup, Barry, and Kravitz had all offered to pick him up in Hogsbottom and bring him home via teleportation or interplaner portal. He was the one who’d insisted on taking the train. It had felt… right. He used to do this kind of thing all the time, when he lived with his grandfather—set out on adventures, solve mysteries, travel. Now whenever he wanted to do something like this there was always someone who thought they should tag along, someone who thought he’d be in danger. And maybe he _would_ be, but he could handle himself. He could handle himself _better_ now than back when he was ten and catching serial killers for the militia.

“I’m not that young,” Angus says. “Besides, they’re all pretty busy with work and stuff.”

“Oh honey, I’m sure they’re not too busy for _you_ ,” Wendy says. “They’re your _family_.”

Bryn snorts at that. “Just because someone’s family doesn’t mean they care about you,” he says. “Maybe they wanted to get rid of the kid for a few weeks.”

Angus cocks his head, looking Bryn over, because Angus recognizes projection when he sees it. “Where are you headed?” he asks. “You don’t seem worried about getting there.”

“I’m not.” Bryn rolls his eyes. “I’ve got nowhere to be.”

“You mean you’re not going home?” Deb asks, frowning. “Haven’t you got family waiting for you somewhere?”

Bryn shrugs and stuffs the rest of his cookie into his mouth, looking away. “Nah. The foster home I was in only really cares about little kids. I figured I’d just spend Candlenights in the city. There’s got to be stuff to do that’s more exciting than getting a pair of socks and a shitty turkey dinner.”

Douglas and Wendy exchange a worried look. Beside Angus, even Deb seems concerned.

“What’s your plan?” Deb asks. “When you get to Neverwinter? Have you booked a room somewhere?”

“You’re not my _mom_ , lady. Back off.” Bryn turns to the conductor, sedately polishing glasses. “What about you, dude? What’s your deal? You’re working on Candlenights. _That’s_ pretty sad. Let’s talk about that instead.”

The conductor smiles, a twinkle in his eye. “Oh no,” he says. “I work every Candlenights. It’s my favourite shift. You really get to know the passengers.”

Angus opens his mouth to ask the conductor why Candlenights and if he has any family—it’s what they’re talking about now and any personal information might help Angus figure out what’s happening with him and where the cookies Angus still hasn’t touched really came from—when his stone of farspeech flares to life.

“—swear to _Istus_ , if this doesn’t work, Barold—”

Angus jumps. So do Douglas and Wendy and Deb and Bryn. The conductor remains unphased.

Angus grabs his stone as the sound of Taako making threats grows more distant. “Sir? Sir, can you hear me?”

The blizzard outside is still raging. Angus has no idea how the signal is getting through.

“ _Finally_.” Taako’s voice is suddenly loud and clear. “We’ve been trying to get through to you for the last half hour, Agnes. How’s the train you absolutely _had_ to take doing?”

“Don’t _lecture_ him—”

“I’ll do whatever I want to do, Maggie. My stone, my rules. Pumpkin?”

Angus sighs. “It’s stuck,” he says. “They’re waiting for a break in the storm to call for help or for the station to send someone. Once they clear the snow the train will start moving again.”

“Mm, fuck that. The B.O.B. crew said the storm looked like it would take hours to clear on their way down,” Taako says. “What did I say about waiting until the last minute to leave?”

Angus pauses, frowning to himself. “Um,” he says. “I don’t think you said anything, sir. Aunt Lup said—”

Taako shushes him loudly. “Never mind. I spent all day working over a hot stove to make a nice meal and now I can see I’m going to have to do this myself too. Cha’boy did _not_ plan this fucking feast only to have an empty space at his table.”

The stone clicks off and goes dim before Angus can say anything else in reply. He sighs, tucking it back into his shirt, and looks up at everyone else in the car. Aside from the conductor, they all have shell-shocked looks on their faces.

“Did he say the B.O.B.?” Deb asks, after a beat.

“Holy shit,” says Bryn. “Was that—”

He’s interrupted by a bright flare of light that momentarily blinds them all. When it clears, and when Angus is done blinking spots from in front of his eyes, Taako, Merle, and Magnus are standing in the middle of the dining car.

Taako brushes off the front of his heavily beaded, floor-length velvet gown and looks over the other people in the car, zeroing in on Angus. “You just _had_ to go solve a mystery right before Candlenights, didn’t you?”

“Hey, Ango!” Magnus says, grinning and jostling past Taako so he can give Angus a hug and ruffle his hair. “I haven’t seen you in a while, huh? You’ve grown! Happy Candlenights.”

“Happy Candlenights, sir. I haven’t grown _that_ much,” Angus says, smiling despite himself and reaching up to smooth down his hair. “You didn’t have to come get me.”

“Course we did. It wouldn’t be Candlenights without you. Right, Merle?”

Merle makes a show of crossing his arms over his chest. “I’d never hear the end of it from Mavis and Mookie if we didn’t round you up.”

“Thank you, sir,” Angus says, leaning to the side so he’s got a clear view of Merle around Magnus’s bulk. “It was nice of you to come.”

“Sure, sure.” Merle wanders over to the bar, ignoring the way the rest of the passengers are gaping at him. “Are those cookies for anyone?”

“Please, help yourself,” says the conductor. “Can I get you gentlemen something to drink?”

“No can do, kemosabe,” Taakos says, wandering over to pluck one of the macarons from the tray. “We’re on a schedule. Taako’s got a shindig to get back to.” He turns the macaron over in his hand, eying it suspiciously. “Elderflower macaroons, huh?”

“The Neverwinter Express prides itself on excellent customer service.”

Taako takes a bite, frowning as he chews. “Good texture. Little heavy-handed with the cordial in the icing. Seven out of ten.” He puts the remaining half a cookie back on the tray and then claps his hand. “Well, bubelah? You ready to blow this joint?”

“You’re—you’re Taako,” says Bryn, the first of the passengers to snap out of his awestruck daze. “From TV. And you’re Magnus “The Hammer” Burnsides. And Earl Merle Highchurch.”

“Crap, is this going to turn into an autograph sesh? I didn’t bring my pen,” Taako says.

“I think I have one,” Magnus says, opening his pouch and starting to root around in it. He takes out Stephen the Fish, handing him to Angus. “Hold Stephen for a second.”

Deb and Wendy both look down at Angus and seem to simultaneously draw the same conclusion.

“Holy shit,” Deb says.

“You’re Angus McDonald,” says Wendy.

Magnus pauses in his search for a pen, glancing at the two women and then down at Angus. “What did you tell people your name was?”

“Amos,” Angus says. “My ticket’s booked under Amos McDougal.”

“Oh, that’s a good one,” Merle says. “Have to remember that the next time I need a fake identity.”

“I just use Agnes’s name,” Taako says. He snaps his fingers at Magnus. “Mags, find a pen so I can sign a few autographs and get out of here. Dinner’s already going to be late.”

Angus looks at the other people in the car with him, then at the snow outside, then back at Taako, Magnus, and Merle. “I can’t leave,” he says. “It wouldn’t be fair when everyone else stuck here until the weather clears up.”

Taako pauses in taking a pen from Magnus and turns to frown at Angus. “You are _not_ missing Candlenights. I’ve been planning this for _weeks_.”

Merle takes a bite of the sugar cookie and glances from Taako to Angus. “There’s no point in arguing,” he says. “It’s a simple enough problem to fix. We just take everyone back with us. You up for that, Taako?”

Taako rolls his eyes and pops out of existence.

“Do you… think that’s a no?” Magnus asks, after a moment of silence. “I guess we’re not coming to Candlenights either.”

“He’ll be back,” Merle says, taking another bite of his cookie and reaching for a piece of rugelach next. “Try these, Magnus. They’re good.”

“Oh, shortbread!” Magnus says, reaching out to take a piece. “Thank you. This is very nice.”

There’s a sound like ripping fabric and then Taako’s stepping out of a tear in reality, accompanied by the sharp scent of ozone in the air. The living room of Taako’s large Neverwinter manor home is visible behind him, as is Lup, leaning casually against her scythe. 

“What’s up, folks?” she asks, wiggling her fingers at them. “Taako tells me you could use an escape route.”

“Good idea, sir,” Angus says, smiling as he slides off his stool. “But there’s our luggage to consider—”

“Always another thing with you.” Taako turns to the conductor. “Old dude. Take the big fella to the luggage car to get the bags.”

“You want me to carry _all_ the bags up here?” Magnus asks, giving Taako a skeptical look. “Taako, you have _magic_.”

“And you’ve got muscles. Don’t let them go to waste.” He makes a shooing motion with his hands. Magnus grumbles as he leaves the car with the conductor, but doesn’t seem too put out about it, really.

Angus, still holding Stephen, turns to everyone else. “Have you got anything else you need to grab in the passenger car?”

“Is this… are you really transporting us all to Neverwinter?” Douglas asks. He turns to Taako hastily. “Not that—You’re one of the Seven Birds. Of course we trust you, it’s just…”

“I fought off the Hunger and renewed the bonds between the planes. You think I can’t get a few people from a train in the middle of nowhere to Neverwinter?”

Behind Taako, Lup clears her throat.

He rolls his eyes. “Yes, fine, Lulu. You think _we_ can’t get a few people from a train in the middle of nowhere to Neverwinter?”

“Don’t be rude, sir.” Angus smiles at Douglas. “They’ll really get us all to Neverwinter. You’ll be able to see your daughter and the baby.”

Wendy smiles at that, reaching out to take Douglas’s hand. “We won’t miss a thing if we leave now.”

“My sister will never know I was almost late,” Deb says, peking up. “Holy shit, this is amazing.”

Bryn, beside Douglas, is silent. Angus looks at him for a moment, then looks at Taako. “Can my friend come to dinner?” he asks. “This is Bryn.”

Bryn is about the right age for Taako’s Amazing School of Magic. The school isn’t everyone’s cup of tea, but it’d be a place for Bryn to stay for a while and Taako’s got a soft spot for kids with nowhere else to go.

Taako sweeps a critical gaze over Bryn and his dark clothing, at the chains and heavy eyeliner and oversized leather coat. “Sure,” he says, after a brief pause. “Why not? Love the look, bubelah. You’re going to get along _great_ with my boyfriend.”

Lup snorts.

Merle hands Bryn a cookie and pats his arm. “You ever go to Extreme Teen Adventure Camp, kid? I think you’d like it.Right now you’re at the age where you’d get the most out of it.”

Magnus and the conductor came back into the car laden down with bags. Deb gets off her stool to help them. “I’m sorry,” she says. “It’s been so long since I saw my sister. I didn’t know what to get her for Candlenights so I just—bought everything.”

Magnus laughs as he hands Deb the fourth suitcase in her matching set. “That’s okay,” he says. “I get excited about Candlenights too. I bought all my dogs presents this year. I’ve got eight right now.”

“Ugh,” Taako says. “Don’t remind me. I can’t stand them. They’re _destroying_ my yard.”

Magnus raises an eyebrow at Taako. “Right. That’s why you were feeding Genevieve bacon under the table this morning, huh?”

“I was _not_ ,” Taako says firmly. “The bacon slipped out of my hands.  You’re _not_ giving me a dog for Candlenights, Magnus. Not even the cute one.”

“Shall we get these people home before they get old, fellas?” Merle asks, raising his voice. He can’t pitch it _just so_ the way Kravitz can, but Taako and Magnus have over a century of experience falling in line—sometimes—for Merle’s dad voice.

“I do have to finish getting ready _sometime_ tonight,” Lup says, from the other side of the open portal. “And I love Barry with all my heart, but Taako, babe, if you want him in something besides jeans at dinner you need me wearing him down, oh, yesterday. Right now we’re looking at _maybe_ black jeans, if I’m lucky.”

Taako steps to the side and gestures expressively towards the portal. “All right, chop chop,” he says. “Daylight’s a-wasting.”

Bryn is the first one through because all he has for luggage is his backpack. Douglas and Wendy are busy whispering to each other, so Magnus starts lugging Deb’s bags through next. Deb’s about to step through herself when Wendy reaches out, touching her elbow.

“Deb,” she says. “I know you said you bought a lot of things for your sister already and, well, maybe this is… self-aggrandizing of us, but if the two of you would like to have dinner sometime this week and talk about our music and the old show…”

Deb’s breath catches in her throat. “You—really?” she asks, looking even more blown away than when three of the saviours of the known universe stepped into the car. “I would— _we_ would love that. It would mean the world to us.”

Douglas smiles at Deb. “Good,” he says. “It’d be nice to take a walk down memory lane with you two.” He glances at Angus. “You and your family are welcome too, if you’ve got any interest, Angus. We owe you for this.” He looks up at Taako and Magnus and Merle. “We owe you all a great deal.”

Taako waves it away. He’s always the best at brushing off the admiration of people who want to fall into hero worship around the Seven Birds, doesn’t get awkward the way the rest of them can. Maybe it’s practice, from his Sizzle it Up days, or maybe it’s because he takes it as his due. “Don’t even trip,” he says. “I mean, _I_ would have left you on the train. Blame it all on Ango there.”

“We’ll give you our frequency,” Wendy tells Angus. “Thank you so much for looking out for us.”

“Of course,” Angus says. “It was the right thing to do.”

Deb and Wendy and Douglas step through the portal, followed by Merle and Taako, and then it’s just Angus and Stephen, alone with the conductor while Lup waits for him amidst a pile of luggage. Angus can hear the sounds of his fellow passengers freaking out over Lucretia’s presence behind her. She always gets the most admiration from the public.

“What about you?” Angus asks, turning to the conductor. “I don’t want to leave you here on your own.”

“Oh, I’ll make my way to the front and keep our engineer company,” the conductor says, waving a dismissive hand. “I’m glad everything worked out. It’s a good thing you were on the train.”

“Everything _did_ work out, didn’t it?” Angus asks, glancing at the suspiciously accurate cookie tray again. “Better than anyone might have anticipated. For everyone.”

The conductor grins and holds out a hand. “It was a pleasure working with you, Angus. I hope we’ll meet again.”

Angus shakes the hand offered to him. “Thank you… I never got _your_ name.”

Taako sticks his head back through the portal. “Pumpkin, come _on_. I’ll leave you here. Don’t test me.”

“He’s coming now,” the conductor promises, then turns his attention back down to Angus when Taako ducks back through to the living room. “You can call me Klaus. You better go. Your family’s waiting.”

There’s something niggling at the back of Angus’s brain, some suspicion like just before he breaks open a big case. He turns to the portal and pauses just before going through, looking back at Klaus. “Happy Candlenights, sir!”

“Happy Candlenights.” Angus steps into the living room and the rift starts to close behind him. Klaus seems to remember something at the last moment, raising his voice. “Oh, and Angus! Thanks for moving off the moon! It’ll make getting you your presents easier this year!”

Angus whirls around just as the portal seals shut behind him. He’s left blinking at empty air as his family tries to deal with four strangers and their assorted luggage around him, mind reeling because that was—but it _couldn’t be_ —but _maybe_ —

He turns to see if anyone else heard what Klaus said as the portal closed, but nobody is paying any attention to him, too busy fussing over bags and each other. He looks at Wendy and Douglas, happily exchanging frequencies with Deb, and Bryn, who’s being introduced to an enthusiastic Mookie by Merle, then around at the rest of his family because he’s _here_ and he’s _on time_ , despite the odds being heavily against that happening today.

It’s not logical and it doesn’t make sense, but it’s _Candlenights_. Maybe, every once in a while, you just had to believe in miracles.


End file.
